FROM

We can choose to eat the flesh,
secretions and eggs of animals who were subjected to lives of abject misery,
only to be brought to violent deaths. Or we can choose to eat the food that
grows out of God’s wonderful earth, which is what God wants human beings to
do, if the Torah is any indication.

If you have ever heard of the Talmud, chances are the mere mention of the
word causes your eyes to glaze over.

Most people think of it as a vast compendium of hair-splitting arguments
about arcane issues in Jewish law. And they would be mostly right.

However, amid all the details and debates are some amazing stories with
messages and morals that remain highly relevant.

The Beet-Eating Heeb is pleased to share such a story with you right now.
(If you have a copy of the Talmud at home, you can follow along at Bava
Metzia 85a.)

Here goes...

About 2,000 years ago, shortly after the destruction of the Second
Temple, there existed a rabbi named Judah HaNasi. He wasn’t just any rabbi.
This was the guy who put the Oral Torah into writing, preserving it for
posterity, creating what we call the Mishnah.

On top of that, he was a direct descendant of King David, hence the name
Judah the Prince. In other words, he was a big deal. A very big deal.

One day, when he was putzing around in his front yard, a bellowing calf,
eyes bulging with fear, came running toward him.

The calf hid himself inside the rabbi’s robe, tucking in his tail so that
no part of him would be visible.

Rabbi Judah HaNasi, being a pretty smart guy, quickly sized up the
situation.

This calf was trying to escape his owner, who was taking the young cow to
the shochet, the slaughterer.

So what did the rabbi do?

Not what you might have hoped. Or expected.

Rabbi Judah HaNasi, in his sternest voice, lifted up his robe and scolded
the calf.

“This is why you were created,” the rabbi said. “Go back to your owner!”

At least that wasn’t what the calf had expected.

The calf, with tears streaming down his face, made his way back to his
owner. And met his demise later that day.

However, no sooner had the calf departed from the rabbi’s robe when a
funny thing happened to Judah HaNasi. Actually, what happened isn’t that
funny.

He immediately developed a painful toothache. Then kidney stones. And
splitting headaches.

It seems God and His angels did not approve of the way Judah HaNasi
treated that poor calf.

According to the Talmud:

“They said in Heaven, ‘Since he has no pity, let us bring
suffering upon him.’”

The intense pain from his ailments persisted. And persisted. And
persisted some more. Year after excruciating year.

Keep in mind, there was no Vicodin or codeine back then.

Then one day, in Year 13 of The Pains, the rabbi’s housemaid came into
his study, where he was struggling to concentrate on his work, as anyone who
has suffered chronic pain can understand.

“Excuse me Rabbi,” the housemaid said. “I have found a nest of weasels in
the spare bedroom. Should I swat them with my broom?”

The rabbi considered the matter for a moment, cleared his throat, and
said:

“Leave them be. It is written (in Psalms 145:9) that His
tender mercies are over all His works.”

And with that, his pain instantly disappeared. The toothache. The
headache. The stomachache. All gone. Just like that.grave

What happened? The Talmud tells us:

“Said they in Heaven, ‘Since he is compassionate, let us
be compassionate to him.’”

Quite a story, eh?

So why do you think this account of Rabbi Judah HaNasi’s misstep and
redemption is recorded for posterity?

It’s because we are supposed to see ourselves as Rabbi Judah HaNasi.

Every time we choose what to eat, we face choices similar to the ones
that confronted the great rabbi of yesteryear.

We can choose to eat the flesh, secretions and eggs of animals who were
subjected to lives of abject misery, only to be brought to violent deaths.
Or we can choose to eat the food that grows out of God’s wonderful earth,
which is what God wants human beings to do, if the Torah is any indication.

Like Rabbi Judah HaNasi, we have a choice.

We can support cruelty. Or we can bring more chesed, more kindness, into
the world.

Fair Use Notice: This document, and others on our web site, may contain copyrighted
material whose use has not been specifically authorized by the copyright owners.
We believe that this not-for-profit, educational use on the Web constitutes a fair use
of the copyrighted material (as provided for in section 107 of the US Copyright Law).
If you wish to use this copyrighted material for purposes of your own that go beyond fair use,
you must obtain permission from the copyright owner.